


even your reasons, wash them away

by thunderylee



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Japanese Actor RPF
Genre: Bondage, Canon Universe, F/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, drama filming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: During the filming of Ninkyo Helper (2009), Meisa’s bossiness isn’t just on camera.





	even your reasons, wash them away

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (pegging/strap-ons).

It takes Yabu approximately three minutes to learn that Kuroki Meisa is exactly the same as her character, with exception of the clothes and occupation. They had been properly introduced, of course, but by the time Yabu approaches her on a break to become more acquainted, she’d already cast him into the same category as Every Johnny Ever.

“Don’t even bother hitting on me,” she greets him in a calm voice as she lifts her coffee cup to her lips. His first thought is that her voice isn’t nearly as deep as she makes it sound. “I don’t date Johnnys.”

Yabu considers his options—he can be nice to her, or he can be himself. His eyes narrow as he opts on the wild side. “What makes you think I’d even want to hit on you? Maybe I was just coming to compliment your acting, though apparently it’s not all pretending with you.”

“Compliment accepted, thank you.” She lifts her cup in parting. “See you on set.”

“Now wait a second,” Yabu says, taking the chair next to her and turning his body to give her his undivided attention. “I don’t know which one of my colleagues broke your heart, but I’m just trying to be amiable here. Unlike you, I’m not like my character.”

Meisa lowers her eyes to take in his attire, which includes the same hot-pink tank top and sweatpants he’d worn from home that director-san had chosen over his actual character wardrobe. “Could have fooled me.”

“I’m not a skeeze,” Yabu tells her point-blank. “I’m the innocent one!”

“So I’ve heard,” she says, then gives him a very long, very uncomfortable once-over. “What are your intentions, then, innocent one?”

“I…” Yabu trails off, swallowing hard when she lifts her chin to look at him expectantly. “I just wanted to know you better. You seem interesting.”

“You wanted to know me better,” Meisa repeats, and the way she says it makes it sound skeezier than she’d accused Yabu of being. “I’m _interesting_.”

Yabu folds his arms. “Actually, right now you’re being kind of a bitch, and my favorite senpai says no girl is pretty enough to get away with that.”

That has Meisa raising an eyebrow. “Which senpai is that?”

“Akanishi Jin-kun,” Yabu name-drops proudly.

Meisa looks thoughtful. “Haven’t had the pleasure, but he sounds like a real winner.”

Yabu knows she’s being sarcastic, but he nods anyway. “Anyway, I’ll see you on set. You’re clearly not open to new experiences, so I’ll save my effort for pretending to be attracted to you.”

She doesn’t even look affected by his words, just waving him off as she turns back to her phone, and Yabu’s even more aggravated as he stalks out of the studio. He’s being a brat, but he’s nineteen and allowed to be, even if Hikaru gives him more shit than sympathy for even trying to chat up an older girl with a reputation like that.

“You’re probably better off this way,” Hikaru tells him, speaking around whatever he’s eating. “She’s probably one of those girls who wants to do _you_ , if you know what I mean.”

Yabu knows what he means. They’d watched that AV movie together, both wide-eyed and a little curious as the female dominatrix penetrated her male submissive with something that was strapped on and looked like it had no business trying to go inside anyone. Hikaru’s probably still too traumatized to even look at a girl unless he’s getting paid to do it.

After that unfortunate initial interaction, hitting on Meisa in the drama is actually fun. She doesn’t have anymore of a reaction in the script than she does in real life, but somehow that makes it better. At one point she really does smack him in the head instead of near-missing, but Yabu plays it off so that they don’t have to redo the take. She apologizes afterward, cold and steady as usual, but something flashes in her eyes when Yabu tells her that he didn’t mind it.

He makes it until he’s hog-tied on his stomach before admitting to himself that he might like this. If it wasn’t for all the cameras and staff, Yabu could fool himself into thinking that it’s real. There’s a bed, anyway, and he’s bound and helpless to Meisa’s whims. It’s not her who unties him after the scene, but she is all he sees, enough that he really has to concentrate to calm himself before getting up.

“Enjoy that?” Meisa asks, leaning against the wall dressed in her yakuza suit for the next scene. She looks so damn good that Yabu doesn’t notice that this is the first time she’s spoken to him without being prompted.

“Maybe I did,” he replies, trying to sound cool and nonchalant except that his voice almost cracks.

She actually smiles, a foreign expression on her face that has so far only looked at Yabu in distaste on screen and off. She walks toward the bed where he’s still sitting and remains standing, a silent indicator of his place beneath her. “What was it you said about new experiences?”

“You’re not open to them,” he recites his own words, frozen by her close proximity.

“You shouldn’t assume anything about anyone, Yabu-kun,” Meisa tells him, barely grazing his chin with a nail to lift his head more than it already is. “The question is, can you put your money where your mouth is?”

“You want me to pay for it?” Yabu asks, aghast until Meisa’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. “What are you even going on about? You don’t want anything to do with me, so stop wasting my time.”

The next second has all five of her fingers and thumb twisting in his hair. “Didn’t I just tell you not to assume?”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Yabu gets out, cringing at the sudden pain searing through his scalp. It doesn’t stop there, though, coursing through his body and somehow transforming into a pleasure more intense than when he’d been tied up. “Kuroki-san, please let go. There are people around.”

Now she looks intrigued, eyes on his face as she obliges his wish and holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

Confused by both the order and what he’s feeling, he just reaches into his front pocket for his phone and hands it to her. She pushes some buttons, then reaches for her own phone and does the same.

“What are you doing?” he demands, half annoyed and half curious.

“Like you said, there are other people here,” she answers casually, dropping his phone directly into his lap instead of giving it back to him. “My roommate is out of town for the rest of the week. If you really want a new experience, you know what to do.”

Then she walks away, the soft steps of her men’s shoes sounding on the hardwood floor. Yabu watches her go, wondering what the hell just happened as he picks up his phone and notices a new message. All it shows is an address, sent from the newly-added contact ‘My Queen’.

Yabu gulps and wonders if he’s ready for this. He’s barely had conventional sex, let alone whatever Meisa has in store for him when they’re alone at her place. Any other time he would call Hikaru and ask what he should do, but he doesn’t think he wants Hikaru to know about this. Hikaru had already been a little too close to the truth when they had talked about it before.

What the hell, Yabu inevitably decides once he’s sitting on his bed at home unable to think about anything other than _that_. “You only live once,” he says to himself as he grabs his keys and hops the train to the next town.

“Took you long enough,” Meisa greets him at the door, ushering him inside before any of her neighbors can see her almost six-foot-tall fluffy-haired visitor.

He blinks at her as he takes in her thin cami and cotton pajama pants. She looks almost feminine, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her features not as angry as normal.

“What did you expect, lingerie?” she asks, folding her arms disapprovingly. “If that’s what you want, then get out.”

“I want _you_ ,” Yabu says clearly, because it’s the only thing running through his mind and this is a good time to say it.

“Even if I tie you up?” she asks curiously, leaning into his personal space.

His first instinct is to back up, but he’s already leaning against the wall. “Even then.”

“Even if I’m the one to fuck _you_?”

She says the vulgar word so easily, like it’s just another part of her vocabulary, and Yabu feels a fire spread throughout his entire body at the thought. “Yes.”

Her smile is filthy, but so is the way her fingers trace along his waistline. “Then you can stay.”

She drags him by the shirt into her bedroom, which is girlier than she is with purple decor and lacy curtains. Yabu gets to look around for about three seconds before he’s shoved down onto the bed, quickly joined by Meisa’s weight that settles between his legs like their roles are reversed. Which they are, he mentally amends as she hovers over him.

“Already?” she asks, giving him a pitiful look as she rocks down against his rock-hard erection. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Nineteen,” he answers quickly, resisting the urge to thrust up against her.

She makes a face. “I thought you were older. You’re so tall.”

“I can be however old you want me to be,” Yabu tells her seriously.

“Good response,” she says, and he preens from the praise. “Now I don’t play that dubious consent shit, so if you say ‘no’ or tell me to stop, I will.”

He nods. “Understood.”

“Good. Let’s get started.”

Yabu’s clothes are off faster than a costume change, Meisa’s nails raking up and down his torso like she likes what she sees. He chokes on his breath when she snags a nipple, which has her smirking as she does it again, taking them both between her fingers and twisting a little too roughly.

“I like noise,” she says pointedly, pinching harder until Yabu yelps and bucks up against her. “That’s good.”

Yabu’s already a mess and they’ve barely even begun. His arms are still free, but not for long as she reaches into a drawer and emerges with a pair of handcuffs. Real ones, no fuzz or any kind of decoration, just metal that clicks when she fastens them around his wrists behind his head. Just the immobility of his arms is enough to have his blood boiling, so much hotter than before since he can still see her and have her hands all over his body.

A few more retrievals from the drawer and Meisa has a platter laid out next to her, things that Yabu can’t see but knows what they are, or at least the general idea. He inhales sharply when she leans back and spreads his legs, biting her bottom lip as she contemplates what she sees. It’s only a little humiliating to be scrutinized like that, especially since his body seems to know it’s being watched and reacts by contracting its muscles.

“This will be more comfortable if you put your knees up,” she says, and he follows the advice even if it makes him feel like a pretzel. “Also, I don’t think you want my nails there, so I’ll be using a very thin dildo to stretch you.”

Yabu just nods, though she wasn’t exactly seeking permission as something breeches Yabu’s opening and he tries to relax. It’s lubricated and goes in easily, thin as promised, making him squirm and gasp as it touches places inside him he hasn’t felt before.

“You’re acting like a virgin,” she says, then stares at him when he flinches. “Are you really? I thought all of you Johnnys boys were constantly in each other’s pants.”

“I told you, I’m the innocent one,” Yabu tells her, his voice strained. “I’ve only messed around a bit. Nothing like this.”

“Well then, you’ll have quite the interesting first time.”

‘Interesting’ doesn’t begin to describe how it feels when Meisa pulls out that toy and replaces it with another, something much bigger but still not as big as an actual cock. This one takes a little longer to go in, Yabu trembling under Meisa’s eyes the entire time; he can see how much she likes seeing him like this, her face flushing and her breathing becoming visible as she pushes the dildo in and out of him.

He makes it until she hits something inside him before crying out, his voice rough and scratchy as his back arches, hips desperately pushing back for more. She groans low in her throat as she gives it to him harder, angling her wrist to reach that spot over and over and reducing him to moans as his body twists from the pressure. He grabs his own hair just for something to hold onto, moaning even louder when he pulls harder than she had earlier today.

“Damn,” Meisa says, letting go of the toy to pull her cami over her head. Yabu’s so out of it that he can hardly appreciate her breasts, though he tries. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, pretty boy.”

“Please,” he gets out, shamelessly snapping his hips up to meet her efforts. It just feels so good to have something moving inside him while looking at her gorgeous body, which is slowly climbing on top of his.

He exhales harshly when she pulls out the toy, leaving him embarrassingly loose until she kneels between his legs and he feels something much bigger in its place. He struggles to focus enough to look down, seeing the straps around her waist and feeling even hotter at the realization that she really is going to fuck him.

“Deep breath,” she whispers, stretching her lean torso across his to press a kiss to his trembling lips as she pushes in. He manages to breathe well enough, though her fingers in his hair are much more soothing. “Good boy. Now remember, I want to hear you.”

That is definitely not a problem. Yabu has never made any noise before, but he can’t stop the moans from leaving his lungs as this dildo moves inside him, hitting him deep. It really does feel like Meisa’s the one fucking him, especially with the way she groans with each thrust. She’s not very steady for someone who does this often, but she braces herself well enough on his knees and establishes a rhythm that’s fast and hard.

Yabu’s back arches so much that it’s practically curved out from the mattress. Both of his fists are in his own hair, his head leaning back, throat exposed. All he knows is Meisa all around him—the weight of her body on top of his, her scent, the force with which she slams into him. It feels even better than before, his only regret that he can’t touch her, his shaky legs wrapping around her waist in the most contact he can make right now.

Then a hand wraps around his cock and he chokes on his moan, his body moving differently now that there’s a promise of release. Meisa knows what she’s doing, flicking her wrist just right and bringing him right to the edge before slowing down. Yabu has no idea how she can tell, other than his body tightening around the dildo that takes more effort to push inside him, but each sting of denial takes him higher, bringing him closer to incoherency.

“Kuroki-san, please,” he begs, so close that he’s almost crying. He may actually be, either that or that’s sweat running down his face.

Meisa’s sweating, too, hips still thrusting dutifully as she jerks him as fast as she can. It’s too much, too fast, too hard, and Yabu’s coming all over himself before he can realize it, his orgasm spreading all throughout his body and leaving him tingling all over. He whines a little and Meisa takes it as a cue to stop, which is much appreciated as he focuses on remembering how to breathe.

“Oh, you’re my favorite,” she says, face bright as she slowly dislodges the toy from his body. “None of the others were as loud as you.”

“The others?” Yabu asks breathlessly, wincing as he lowers his legs.

“The other Johnnys,” she tells him, unfastening the straps and placing it neatly on the towel next to her. She’s kneeling next to him, gloriously naked and shining with sweat, igniting a tiny spark of reborn arousal in him despite being barely able to move.

He peers down at her through very narrow eyelids. “I thought you didn’t date Johnnys?”

“I don’t. I just fuck them. Like I fucked you.”

Before Yabu can process that, she’s straddling his face, grabbing onto his cuffed wrists like it’s the horn of a horse’s saddle. It takes Yabu a second to figure out what just happened, though it becomes more evident from the intoxicating scent of aroused female and her juices that are dripping onto his chin.

“Did you think you’d get away without getting me off?” she scoffs. “Lick, bitch.”

He follows orders, sticking out his tongue as far as he can and flicking it in the general direction of up. Meisa moves around until she has it where she wants it, which has her moaning and riding his face just as fast as he’s licking her. He hasn’t done this before, but apparently he’s doing it right judging by the way her thighs tremble on either side of his jaw and she squeezes his fingers.

“Just like that,” she directs him, and once again Yabu wishes he could use his hands to touch her, maybe go inside her and feel her muscles clamp down around his fingers. Instead he keeps licking her, going as fast as he can despite his inexperience, and he can tell she’s coming when something twitches against his tongue a split-second before she screams and shudders.

She climbs off of him immediately, scooping up her arsenal of sex toys and disappearing to the bathroom while Yabu remains on her bed, tied up and naked with his mess on his belly and her mess on his face. What a sight he must be right now, he thinks in amusement as he finally catches his breath and tries to move his overworked tongue in his mouth.

When Meisa returns, she’s dressed again and tossing a warm warmcloth onto Yabu’s chest, which he glances at before staring at her pointedly. “Oh, right,” she says, grabbing a key from her drawer to unlock the handcuffs. “I usually don’t use these. They were for you.”

“How thoughtful,” he mumbles, cringing a little as he tries to move his arms enough to clean himself up. Meisa looks disinterested in any further conversation as she fixes her hair in the mirror, a fresh ponytail that isn’t lopsided from sex.

“You can leave now,” she says upon turning around and seeing Yabu still where she left him. “If you ever want more, you know how to get a hold of me. I don’t mind my favorite coming back for seconds.”

Yabu never goes back, and two and a half years later, Hikaru is falling all over himself to run down the hallway to where Yabu is still opening his eyes with a cappuccino. “Did you hear? Akanishi knocked up Kuroki Meisa.”

“What?” Yabu asks with a frown. “If you’re gonna try to spread a rumor, at least make it believable.”

“It’s true!” Hikaru emphasizes. “They got married and everything. Didn’t you hit that? Akanishi’s got your sloppy seconds, man.”

It all comes back, the memory of their time together and how it was unlike anything Yabu’s ever done since. He smiles fondly and slings an arm around Hikaru. “Something like that.”


End file.
